Spellbound
by Maya5
Summary: Made small edits to some chapters, and combined some, and then reposeted. Hope you like.
1. Prologue

Prologue: 3/11/04

"Professor?" A tall thin red headed boy lingered at the door while the rest of the third-years anxiously poured out, "Prof-"

"Yes Mr. Weasley," the chestnut haired professor, "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering, if you know when we might get the results for this exam?"

"Anxious already?" The Herbology professor grinned, "Despite your looks, you're just like your mother, aren't you?"

The red head frowned, more than one person had told him that before. But the boy was willing to give the professor a second chance, it was, after-all, the man's first year.

"Lets see, I'll make you a promise, you will have it back by this time next week."

Of course you could never be entirely sure with such an absentminded professor…

The third year finally left the classroom. Sighing, the new professor reached his desk and pulled out a stack of sealed envelopes. There was only one invitation left to write, and it was going to be the toughest. His quill hovered over the parchment, and then he scratched away the simplest part.

_Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley, and Ms. Ginny Weasley # 7 Circe Avenue Godric's Hollow_

He extracted a piece of parchment from his desk, scratching away the rest of the invitation.

_You are cordially invited to the Gryffindor House Christmas Party Reunion._

Where: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

When: You are welcome to stay throughout the Christmas holiday.

_Please RSVP with this owl, thank you.  
_  
The professor bit his lip and stared at the paper for a full minute before going on.

_PS_

_In our year, I know that the you two were probably the closest to Harry. The controversy surrounding his whereabouts has made it impossible for me to invite him personally, but if you are in contact, please pass the word on. _

He signed the parchment hastily, and began to clear up. "Better send these off before I forget," he said to himself. Locking the door behind him, he made straight for the owlry. Half way there, he quickened his pace, nearly smashing into a small blue-robed girl.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

The Ravenclaw turned her white blonde head and looked at the professor. As they caught each other's eyes both of them felt the blood rise to their cheeks. Tortured, confusing, and undiluted memories flooded back as he looked into the cold grey eyes. She had absolutely no idea who the man was, but he recognized her. Cursing her father, she tried to escape the situation.

"I'm sorry," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "I wasn't looking where-"

"It's alright, it wasn't your fault" said the professor quickly.

The man walked briskly on and brushed off the icy feeling that had come over him. The girl, on the other hand, stayed locked in her position, glaring at the floor. She winced at the mere memories of her first year. Every single one of her teachers either hated her or was terrified to even speak to her properly.

_Your face, your eyes, your smile. All they see in me is you. _She asked herself for the thousandth time, _what about your memory is so horrible that people flinch when I walk by?_

Presently, one of the few people who seemed completely ignore her likeness to her father walked by, humming. Unfortunately, the two of them never had the chance to strike a friendship between trading insults and competing in every possible way.

"Malfoy," called the ever-cheerful redhead as he passed her.

"Weasley," she replied tersely, not slowing her step. She wasn't in the mood to have a word war. She turned the corner with her head bowed down and her eyes out of focus. The boy stared after her for a few seconds, then walked away, shaking his head and smiling.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Ron? RON!" shouted a slim brunnette woman, "Ronald Weasley, if you don't get -"

"Your beginning to sound like my mother" he said jokingly. Hermione frowned. "What is it, then?" asked Ron from the other end of the kitchen.

He was trying to fix the muggle clock that they had gotten as a Christmas present last year. So far, he had been rather unsuccessful in actually making it tick, but he had managed to get it to moo, cluck, neigh, whinny, and roar.

"Look what Pig brought in," she said, while untying the envelope from the owls claw, "Its from Hogwarts. Oh, and Ron you don't need grease to fix a clock. I'll send for some batteries from my parents"

"Don't tell me our little Merlin has gotten himself into trouble," he said, changing the subject.

"If he has, you can hardly blame him," she said, "not after the legacy we left behind."

Ron grinned and put down the family clock and walked over, wiping his hands on the tablecloth.

"Roooooon, don't-" she began.

"Hermioneeeee," he interrupted, mimicking her, "So what's the letter about anyway?"

"Actually, its not a letter, its an invitation."

"From Hogwarts?"

"From Professor Longbottom."

"Neville! Its been too long!" exclaimed Ron, " How is he, what's he inviting us to?"

"A Gryffindor House Reunion, for Christmas," she explained after skimming the invite " This is wonderful, I can't wait to meet everyone again!"

"Read the rest," he urged, walking her to their living room. The two of them sat down on the sofa, and she wiped some of the grease from her husband's face, grinning.

Her eyes scanned the invitation, and soon her eyes reached the post-script. The smile faded from her face and she set the letter down on the table.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hermione remained frozen, her eyes were far away, but a tear managed to crawl down her cheek. Ron read the rest of the invitation, and turned back to Hermione.

"I cant believe this." She began, "This is just wrong. WE cant have. I mean, we just _forgot_ about our best firend-"

"Hermione, we've been through this. It's not our fault" Ron said, dropping the parchment as blurry memories of the ceremony ran through his head. Feeling the guilt tighten around him, he stood and tried to finish, "the prophecy. I mean, Dumbledore arranged it this way. We didn't do anything wrong."

"I can't believe this! How can even call ourselves friends?" She was shaking her head, "Even before the wedding … something was wrong … Ron, how could we have let this happen? He… he needed us. We failed." she stopped herself, and looked up at Ron "What will we write?"

"For the first time in thirteen years," he said, still shaken.

"More." She said, "too many… oh god…"

"Hermione," he tried to sound comforting, but his voice cracked. He started again, " Hermione, it's okay. It's okay" He smoothed her hair, "It's okay, I'm sure he's alright. Dumbledore would never let anything happen to him."

Hermione shook her head through the tears, and after taking a breath, she said, "You know it's a lie! Ron, we don't even know where he is, or if he's even…" her voice wavered, but she picked up the invitation and read off of it, "_the _controversy_ surrounding-"_

Ron finished it in his head. It was true, they only knew what the Daily Prophet reported. Ron sighed, putting his head in his hands. _Harry, where are you? _Everyone had lost count of the number of times he had admitted in and out of St. Mungo's. He came and went as he pleased, and his pride, and his frank mental instability refused to let him the help he needed. Not to mention, who dared stop Harry? Who questioned where he went? There was only one person that he would heed, and she was asleep upstairs.

"Alright, I'll go upstairs, and I'll say we haven't heard from him" he said, while helping her up, "Why don't I wake Ginny up, too. We can go for a walk or something."

"But." she started, "I just don't understand. Our best friend? We just… forgot? There's something else. There must be."

Ron recognized the look on her face, and left her to figure it out. He had given up long since…He jogged up the stairs and across the hall, stopping at Ginny's room. He knocked carefully on her door, and there was no answer. "Ginny?" he called, "Are you in there?" Still, no respnse. He pushed the door lightly and it swung open easily. A note fluttered to the ground.

Ron-

Just stepped out for a walk. I'll be late, don't wait up for me.

Ginny

Ginny probably had the worst time coping with Harry's situation, she had not been able to forget, to move on. But it had still been awhile; how could she have known about the invitation? He pocketed the note, and decided to avoid showing it to Hermione, she had enough on her mind.

"I think it's time to go for a walk," he said to himself.


	3. Chapter 2

_Malfoy_

Oh how he detested that name, but there was a reason to hold onto it. There was power there, and money, and, most importantly, pride. Changing his name wouldn't make anyone distinguish between himself and his father.

"Why should they," he asked no one in particular. Stiffly making his way to the leather reading chair, he opened it.

_A personal invitation, _he thought, _you didn't even think the head of Slytherin house would write me one. Oh, dear headmaster, I'm sorry, but I can't come, not like this. _

Draco threw the invitation into the fireplace and watched the paper. He watched as it curled up and dissolved into ashes.

Ron finished attaching the reply to the invitation to Pig's claw, and sent him off. Jogging down the stairs he looked out the window and realized that it had begun to rain quite suddenly quite heavily.

"Ron?" cried Hermione from downstairs, "Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Ginny is, she hasn't been down all day." Hermione's voice was still heavy from her crying, but she was trying to forget.

"No," he unglued his eyes from the rain, and turning his head back toward the kitchen, "I don't," he lied, "but I think she may have gone out for a walk." He glanced outside, "maybe I should go look for her," he finished distractedly.

"I feel like visiting Mom and Dad anyway."

"Okay," said Hermione, " I'll meet you at the cemetery a little later, I have a few things to do first."

Draco got up wearily and retrieved his staff from its eternal spot next to the fireplace. He hated using it, but he had no choice. Malfoy leaned on the staff as a cane, which was once his father's. His face was beginning to show a few signs of the mental anguish that had taken place inside, but he had grown into his intense eyes. The creases had not diminished the undeniable and intimidating attractiveness that he was known for in his younger years.

He stepped out onto the rain-shielded balcony and realized the implications of a reunion. _They will want to know about Harry. He wants me to tell them. _"No," he said, but he knew what was coming, "Why me? Why doesn't he do it? He was there, too. He is the headmaster."

But Malfoy knew why. The Headmaster had wanted him to clear his name for many years now to try and make a new start in the wizarding world. Just crumple up his reputation and throw it away, expecting the world to buy into it. But hings were more complicated than that. The wizarding world needed villains. They needed to blame people. And Malfoy was perfect.

_Today is the day. _The thought came to him in the middle of his reverie. He glanced outside to the rain and a strange coldness swept over him. There was no shaking off this feeling. And no second chances. _It is time _… _The cemetery...I think. _Malfoy usually put much more thought into his actions before drove off in the middle of the day, but when dealing with Harry and the Prophecy, well, this was about as much planning as would go into it.

Ron absently pulled on one of his mother's woolen maroon sweaters and a cloak. He pushed open the door and was met with a blast of cold air.

"I have a feeling I know where you are," he said as he trudged forward. He started to jog toward the cemetery. He pulled out his wand, shedding some light on the road, and protecting himself from the rain.

Malfoy strode over to his garage, he had taken a fancy to Muggle cars over the years, of course he had them magically redone. They came in handy when he had to go into the muggle world, which his job required frequently. A jet black convertible hummed to life and he could not help but grin. (A/N: Cheesy, I know, but I couldn't help myself.) The door opened with another charm from his wand, and he eased into the seat with the aid of the staff.

Ron reached finally saw the gates, which were swinging back and forth. Out of nowhere a car tore around the corner, an ink black convertible with only one passenger. Ron immediately hid his wand, but upon closer inspection observed that this was no ordinary car. Ron looked a little closer and saw that not a single drop of rain had touched the individual and that the car seemed to be steering itself as the passenger adjusted his sunglasses.

The car screeched to a stop and the door flew open, a tall blonde haired man stepped out. He had made no effort to conceal the fact that he was a wizard, and was practically brandishing his wand. He wore all black and a green cape that hung over his shoulder, which hand a silver spike that seemed to hold his cloak in place. He had a large ornate looking staff, which he leaned on precariously. The wizard left his car in the rain-proof bubble, and created one for himself.

Then, to Ron's surprise, the man turned to him, and held open the cemetery gate. _How does he know…_thought Ron, but he sped up a little more to avoid keeping the man waiting.

"Hello there, Ron."

Ron swiveled around in complete astonishment, "How…?"

"You don't remember me?" the man pouted, and it was one of the most absurd things Ron had seen in a long time.He recognized the voice from somewhere, but just couldn't put his finger on it. The man took off his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket. Ron's jaw dropped along with his umbrella, he gasped. Despite the long scar across his left eye, the cold stare was exactly the same.

_Draco Malfoy?_

"Bloody Hell"

"Nice to see you, too."


	4. Chapter 3

I don't believe in disclaimers on a fan fiction site, but I have put one here for the song below, it belongs entirely to Evanescence

BEWARE: THERE IS AN OVERLAP

Ginny stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. _Is that Hermione? Why is she crying? _She paused and listened, wishing she had one of Fred and Georges fake ears.

_Harry…_

She flew back up the stairs silently, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she swallowed hard. _That's it! I have to find him again_. _How could he expect me to keep my word forever?_

Closing her eyes, she pictured his pained face.

"I'm so stupid," she thought, "How could I have let an opportunity like that go? How could I have promised to never see him again?"

She ran out into the street, and contemplated apparating, or taking the bus, but neither idea appealed to her very much. She always preferred the muggle style of transportation: her feet. Shivering, she tightened her cloak around her, and crossed the street onto the sidewalk. The December weather had settled in, her breath created puffs of steam in the air.

She turned the corner and approached the cemetery gate, which was open, and screeching as it swung to and fro in the breeze. For a moment, the wind died down, and it stayed open. Ginny seized the opportunity to get inside without removing her hands from her pockets.

While walking on, she spotted a figure lying on the bench towards the other end of the cemetery. It was most definitely a man, long and slim, lying on his side facing the inside of the bench. The wind picked up again rapidly, throwing the cemetery gate closed with a resounding crash. The man did not stir; Ginny hoped he was just asleep.

"It cant be him," she breathed, "please, don't let it be him."

The frail figure craned his neck with great effort to look at the sky. She sped up to a jog. Moaning, he tried to focus his eyes on the gathering clouds. _It's going to rain,_ he thought.

Without warning, he cried out in agony. A spasm of pain overtook his whole body; his limbs felt like they were being assaulted by several pieces of broken glass, his head felt like it was on fire, burning behind the backs of his eyes. He was paralyzed, unable to breathe, forget speak.

The pain ended as abruptly as it came, and a wave of nausea took its place. Soon a familiar, friendly blackness began to ebb at the corners of his vision. He welcomed it; a comforting escape from the prison that was his body. The blackness encompassed him, and he entered a dreamlike state, the first thing he saw was her face. Her heart shaped face, the infamous red hair, her kind clear eyes and petal shaped lips felt so real that he might reach out and touch them.

Ginny watched as the feeble body twisted and contorted in pain. The mass of jet-black hair swished back, revealing a pair of wet glasses; it was him. She was now sprinting toward the bench. _What's happening_?

There was a bright flash far in the distance tremendous crash; the rain began to fall. It was light at first, but soon there another deafening crash took place, and it began to pour as though the clouds hadn't rained in a thousand years.

The figure jerked awake, opening his eyes with a start; he reeled in pain. The rain had started and an icy cold began to set in, his thin robe wouldn't keep him warm anymore, nothing could. _Maybe this is the end_, he thought to himself. _Lousy way to die for a hero …the savior, that's what they call me, if they only the saw the state I am in_. He tried to move into a better position to survey the cemetery, but every muscle in his body was like lead, refusing to obey his command.

Gasping for breath, Ginny reached the bench. In one fluid movement she tore off her woolen cloak then threw it over him. "Harry! What happened?" she cried in horror. But she knew, it was her own fault. She should have told someone, she should have done something, she thought.

She crept her hand behind his head and embraced him, burrying her nose in his neck.

_Hold on to me, love  
You know I can't stay long,  
All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid, aaah!  
Can you hear me?  
Can you feel me in your arms?_

"How could I have let this happen to you?" she sobbed.

_Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself  
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light - it ends here tonight_

He forced his hand to move, and lifted it to her face, caressing her cheek. She wiped away her own tears and said softly, "Harry, you have been growing weaker and weaker since the Fortress of Shadows. I saw it, and I'm so sorry I didn't do anything. "

_I'll miss the winter  
A world of fragile things  
Look for me in the white forest  
Hiding in a hollow tree (come find me)  
I know you hear me  
I can taste it in your tears!_

Ginny buried her head into his chest, "please, don't go!"

_Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself  
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light - it ends here tonight_

_Closing your eyes to disappear  
You pray your dreams will leave you here  
But still you wake and know the truth  
No one's there_

"I'm not going anywhere until I explain a few things," he said as firmly as he could, "Ginny"__

Say goodnight  
Don't be afraid  
Calling me, calling me as you fade to black

He bit his tounge from the pain of moving his arm. "I owe you an explanation," he said, turning slowly toward her.

"No," cut in a deep voice, "he doesn't."

Hurriedly, Ginny twisted around and encountered a metallic green cape. She followed it up and reached a pair of sharp eyes. _Draco!_

"Bloody Hell"

"Is this a family thing-" asked Draco, turning to Ron, "or is it just me?"

Ginny clenched her teeth as Draco kneeled beside her. _If Harry can forgive him; so can I,_ she told herself. When that didn't work _at least wait for an explanation before you do anything, _she told herself.

"Harry," he whispered, "it's been awhile."

There was a clank from the cemetery gate, and soon Hermione was another silent presence by Ron's side.

"Draco- I'm sorry you had to see me this way," rasped Harry, surprising everyone.

"Don't be a fool," grinned Draco, "Do you suppose it's time to tell everyone?" Harry nodded grimly. "Tell us what?" said Ginny angrily, peeling Draco away from Harry, "what are you doing here?"

Clearing his throat, Draco stood. " As we all know, the events that occurred in the Fortress were quite complicated, and-"

"Cut to the chase, Malfoy," said Ginny, who was still kneeling by Harry.

Draco swallowed and stepped forward, his hands on the bench. He had not expected it to end this way, and the story suddenly flooded back to him, and thus he began his explanation. "Very well. During the last battle, Voldemort was on the verge of defeat when he put an ancient curse on Harry one that fathered all three of the forbidden curses. All those of that were there, myself included, tried to intercept it, counter it, or at least nullify it, it didn't help. Harry defeated Voldemort before the curse was lifted, and is now doomed to die in pain.

Ginny broke the silence, "That can't be true!"

Draco shifted uncomfortably at Harry's side. "This was all in the prophecy."

"You are a liar!" her voice was hysterical, "Get out of here! Just leave! NOW-"

Draco lowered his eyes and didn't move.

"He's telling the truth," croaked Harry, "I'll take it from here." Draco nearly objected, but Harry cut him down with a single look. Harry closed his eyes, and began to speak, "It was prophesized that this the only way Voldemort was to be defeated forever, so I accepted my fate. The prophecy was also specific about the fact that until the day I die, this story was not to be revealed to anyone who was not in the Fortress, nor was I to receive help until then."

"The day you die?" Ginny choked. Draco got up backed away instictively. "Yes, love," he apologized, "I'm so sorry."

Say goodnight Don't be afraid 

_Calling me- _

_Calling me as you fade to black_

"I only have a little while left, Ginny," he said as firmly as possible, "don't cry, Ginny, Ginny, Ginevra…" But Ginny couldn't stop. _No wonder he said he couldn't tel me more…. I should have guessed… there might have been a way…_

As if answering her thoughts, Draco said, "This is the way it was meant to be." Ginny turned around for the first time to see Hermione, who was sobbing on Ron's shoulder.

Draco was trying to speak to them, but Ron's eyes had glazed over, remembering the similar scene at the end of their seventh year. Ron never believed that type of pain could be awoken again; they had tried so hard to cut Harry out of their memories and lives. Nobody ever wanted to revisit that night, again and again, not even to find him. But that wasn't half of the truth, they had begun to lose him long before the Fortress. Those nights of raging tantrums, or moody silences; Harry had been slipping away for a long time. Why had they ignored it? That was the only reason he was so successful in hiding – they weren't looking. And then, for so many years, he had been separated from the only soul that could bring him back, the only person that always brought a smile to his face, the only one that could understand him pain from her first year.

Harry reached out ad pulled Draco's cloak, until he arrived beside Ginny. She moved away, her wide eyes never leaving Harry. Harry made an effort to tell her to stay, but decided against it. He turned to Draco, "you should tell them."

"I have told them everything they need to know." Draco lowered his eyes again.

"About yourself," the words would coming out slower now, "they are my friends Draco. They're your friends, too."

Draco couldn't bring himself to deny him, "Don't worry. Talk to her, she needs you... it's been hard for them all. Granger may know about the spell, you must tell them everything. The guilt, she can't really deal with it."

Draco got up, and motioned for the rest. It was now his turn to zone out, as Harry wobbling voice finally explained to Hermione why she had mysteriously forgotten about him. Soon, only the sound of the rain carried on, Ron and Hermione stood up leaning on each other, and he was gone.

Ginny leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. Finally she stood, and whispered her goodbye. The rain washed away her tears almost as fast as they came, but her hood had slipped off her head and she was drenched through and through.


	5. Chapter 4

Ch 4

A/N: I'm not a big fan of giant notes from authors and shout outs to every single reviewer… but I do have a few thing to say. First: I'm really sorry I haven't updated in so long! I'm going to try harder to keep this going! Oh, and, thanks for all the reviews/emails. Now try and crack this

4/22: So I didn't keep my promise too well, but ah, whatever. See my profile for a detailed description of changes.

Psyche crawled into her bed, her mood much lighter after dinner. Her thoughts now wandered to her mother, and she retrieved the wooden box containing her letters and a precious assortment of belongings.

She removed her favorite pair of earrings, the purple color had now faded considerably, but Psyche would save them forever. She sifted through a few other knick-knacks, including some photos, most of them quite funny. Most people that knew of her parent's marriage considered it a completely random pairing, but somehow her mother's eccentric and disarming frakness seemed to complement her father well.

Though her mother had known she was likely to die in childbirth, she maintained a very positive outlook. The letters were not only full of advice, but of jokes and tidbits. They were always a few pages long, and never failed to give Psyche the feeling that her mother was still alive, and reading aloud just behind her. She would tell stories, and talk about her life with great candidness.

Psyche continued to root around the box until she found the folder she was looking for. Extracting a single piece of parchment from a wad of songs, poems and even some stories, Psyche began to hum the tune she had made up. She read through the lyrics silently, learning more about he mother than any letter could tell. Imaginary, it had been called.

(A/N yes, by evanescence, yes another songfic chapter coming. New challenge- who was her mother? Can you figure it out?)

Psyche thought of the performance that was coming in Christmas. One band allowed per house, it wasn't supposed to be a competition, but when Ian found out she was the lead singer in her band, Ian signed up, and well…

She glanced over the song one last time and felt the surge of her mother's feeling once again. She knew she could win.

The pieces finally fell together in Hermione's head. There had been a spell, cast on herself, Ron, and others close to Harry, they would move on with their lives, and every time they thought of him, they would be reverted back to whatever they were doing before. It was close to the spell used to repel muggles from magical sites, and Hermione felt almost insulted. She was sure they did the right thing, but the fact that she was not trusted to follow the prophecy would weigh down on her forever. There was only one piece of the puzzle that still eluded her: Draco. Why was he there? How did he know to come? What did he ever do to prove himself to Harry?

"So," said Hermione, speaking for the first time, "What now Malfoy? You seem to have all the answers today."

Draco leaned on his staff, staring into the snake eyes, and avoiding the ones that were now turning to him. Harry's words echoed in his mind, and he pushed them away. He wasn't here to make friends, he was here to get this over with.

Ginny watched him as he tried to formulate an answer. She realized she had not seen him since their seventh year. She recalled Harry trying to convince them to accept him, but Ron wouldn't, and Hermione wouldn't believe Harry's arguments that he had changed. In the end, he was avoided or ignored. Now, she had no choice but to wait for him, until he revealed to them the reason for his presence. He did no such thing.

"At this point, I don't know much more than any of you," he said finally, "I can call the Ministry, and I assume you will want to want to handle the funeral."

His simple logic and indifference to the situation brought quickly back to reality.


End file.
